


Expansions on PaksenarrionReader’s "Tales From The Omnic Crisis"

by mar106



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Minor Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, gerard is an asshole, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mar106/pseuds/mar106
Summary: A collection of things inspired by the above work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tales from the Omnic Crisis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941127) by [PaksenarrionReader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaksenarrionReader/pseuds/PaksenarrionReader). 

> This chapter specifically inspired by the line,  
“[Reaper and Widowmaker] relied on each other, honouring the ties between them, ties that had been tight even back when his body didn’t turn to smoke and her eyes were warm hazel instead of frozen gold, ties that had only grown stronger since those days.”

It had started with an assignment of Gérard’s that had been going longer than expected. She had been warned that as a spy - or “intelligence agent” as they put it - his mission might sometimes be extended due to unexpected circumstances. This was, however, the first time, and she was worried. Where did she go but to the man who was most likely to be able to give her some information, who had welcomed her with one of his rare smiles. When she went to Gabriel’s office and asked after her husband, he showed a concern that she never found in Gérard’s eyes. As if he did not like what he was doing - whether it was the espionage or the desk work - and as if he cared about everyone who he worked with, and everyone who the people he worked with cared about. Sometimes she thought her husband saw everyone around him as objects, either as tools to use or obstacles to get around, even her.

(She had found herself beginning to feel that way, then and after attaining the title of Widowmaker, but both times it was Gabe who had pulled her back.)

Gabriel was also one of the few to look at her and see a person, not just a pretty face or a set of legs, and assume such beauty must always come with an empty head. His attention had always felt safe and warm, but never in a romantic way. He had a picture of Commander Morrison on his desk, referred to him as “Jack”, and she had even caught him staring at the portrait a few times. She had heard the argument between Gabriel and Gérard, had heard the shouted “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY WIFE?!” and the the reply of “YOU KNOW I DON’T SWING THAT WAY! MAYBE IF YOU SPENT MORE TIME WITH HER INSTEAD OF AT YOUR WORK SHE WOULDN’T GO SEEKING CONVERSATION ELSEWHERE! NOW GET OUT OF MY OFFICE BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT!”

She had hated Gérard for that. Not only that he would actually think she would do something like that, but that he didn’t even trust her enough to approach her about it. He had blown past her on his way out, had surely known she had heard, but never once offered an apology, or even an acknowledgement. Gabe had, though, not only for defending her, but for her husband’s rudeness. Another difference between the two.

(She fears, now, that this was the seed that Talon grew into the thing that had killed him, that had gloried in his death. That had gone to them willingly, and done what they wanted and enjoyed it.)


	2. Chapter 2

It had been another mission against the newly reformed Overwatch. He so longed to join them, but knew he could not, not with Angela Ziegler or Jack Morrison in their ranks. He had seen the papers - “Reyes blows up Swiss HQ”, “Blackwatch exposed - Reyes Traitor”, “Mercy Testifies Before UN - Overwatch Shut Down”.

But now, he had Dr. Ziegler incapacitated right here in front of him, all alone. As he approached, she raised her head and looked at him, and to his immense surprise, it was not hate he saw in her eyes, or fear, but rather… sadness.

“I only wish that I had had the chance… to fix you…” she croaked, laying her head back down with an air of defeat.

“No, no, no, no, NO” he choked out, rushing over to her prone form and beginning to wrap her ruined midsection in bandages from her belt, “you’re gonna get that chance, I promise, just please, hold on a little bit longer.” He searched her belt again for the distress flare he knew must be there, and finding it, fired it up into the night sky and oozed into the shadows as thoughts and memories swirled about in his head.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including (but not limited to):
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)
> 
> This author replies to comments.
> 
> Note: If you'd rather I not reply to your comment (if, for example, you don't feel up to starting a conversation) then feel free to sign your comment "Whisper" and I will only write "thanks."


End file.
